After Yuki left and Jerry buried himself in the expedition plans, Lola lingered. Without warning, she wrapped her arms around me in a warm squeeze.

  “Umm…” I blinked, then awkwardly returned the hug. “Not that I’m complaining, but…?”

  “I didn’t think you’d take your role as villainess seriously!” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

  I slipped free from the hug faster than a cat out of bathwater. “It’s not funny,” I muttered, turning toward the office window. The city sprawled beyond, and it was a kind of similar feeling to the one in our old fort. Me, Lola and everyone terrified of me.

  “We need someone to lead the expedition for the sword. And… the more time I spend in Altandai, the less I want to bomb it.” The words slipped out before I could censor them. “There are slavers, yes… but also normal people.”

  “We’re not bombing the city. We’re…” Lola tapped my arm in comfort, “taking over via brutal methods.” Her tone was flat, matter-of-fact, and then she was already heading for the door. “I have to go, but I sent you the list of leaders. Good luck with demon math!”

  The pencil I launched in response smacked harmlessly against the doorframe as she slipped out.

  I glanced at the datapad she’d left me and felt a grin tug at my lips. Fty. Perfect choice. And since he didn’t have elevator access, Lola herself had to drag him up here.

  The door cracked open a moment later, Lola escorting him in. Another pencil arced across the room and nailed her right in the cheek.

  “Lola, demon math sucks!” I snapped.

  She didn’t even flinch. Just accepted the pencil hit like a seasoned veteran and strode off without breaking stride, leaving poor Fty blinking in the doorway.

  “Sorry,” I said quickly, standing and motioning to the chair. “Sit down.”

  He hesitated, his gaze flicking nervously to my container full of sharpened pencils… extra ammo, ready to fly. “Oh, don’t worry,” I assured him with a grin. “That’s just a friendly spat.”

  “Yes, Queen,” he said, voice stiff but polite. He shook my hand and lowered himself into the seat.

  “I need you to lead an expedition,” I began, swiping the holo-TV on. The screen hummed to life, projecting schematics and maps in soft blue light, Jerry already projecting what I wanted. “Retrieve a sword called Mistrael. It’s for Lunaris, who’ll go with you. You’ll also lead Lily, Yuki, Katherine, and NightSwallow. Lunaris is crucial to the Altandai plan, so we need her fully equipped.”

  Fty looked at me, blinked twice, then cleared his throat carefully. “But… if I may?”

  “Yes?” I leaned back in my chair, waiting.

  “She’s level ten.” His tone was cautious, almost apologetic. “With only the novice class.”

  “Okay…” I muttered, flicking my holo-phone and sending Lunaris a curt message to get to my office ASAP. My finger hovered a second longer than necessary. Lunaris… “That’s why her ranking on Riker’s list tanked. I’ll talk to her.”

  Fty hadn’t moved, eyes fixed on the static holo-map glowing across the wall. Blue outlines of the river flickered faintly. He finally asked, “Why me? I’m grateful for the chance, but leading… elites of the elites? That’s a daunting task. Lisa alone is ten times better.”

  “Ah,” I said sweetly, picking a pencil from the cup. His shoulders flinched before I even twirled it. “Here, you’re wrong. Remember Lola’s annoying HR questionnaire a few days ago? Lisa explicitly said she didn’t want a leadership role. You, on the other hand, did. And I saw how you led the healers on the wall. That was first-class leadership.”

  His gaze dropped straight to the pencil, his hands tightening against his knees. “Oh. That… makes sense. I—”

  The elevator dinged. Doors slid open with a cheerful chime that felt way too happy for what I had planned. Lunaris rolled in, her wheelchair humming softly across the polished floor. The instant her face appeared, a pencil left my hand in a perfect arc and smacked dead center on her forehead.

  It bounced once, slid down the bridge of her nose, and she caught it mid-drop, clutching it like a guilty kid holding stolen candy. Her wide eyes locked on me.

  “Pick a class!” I barked.

  “Excuse me?” She blinked rapidly, cheeks coloring as she rolled further in and parked beside Fty’s chair. Her gaze darted between the two of us, lips pressed together, pink flushing high across her face. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, the pencil tapping nervously against her palm. “I… uh…”

  “Oh, sorry.” I turned and bowed toward Fty. “Please leave us alone. The details will be in your pod.”

  The second the word leave left my mouth, he was already on his feet. One stiff bow, then he backed out like I was about to start lobbing sharpened pencils his way next.

  “Alright,” I said, turning back to Lunaris, leaning against my desk. “Now, you can tell me. Why are you still level ten?”

  Her shoulders hunched, head ducking low, as if she wished the wheelchair could just swallow her whole. “I can’t decide. I don’t know what’s best,” she blurted out, words tumbling like marbles. Then she peeked up at me, eyes wide and almost pleading. “You helped Lisa gain her mythic class… maybe…?”

  “Ah.” I nodded slowly, picking another pencil just to twirl this time. “Makes sense. The class you pick at level ten is the most important. Evolutions only move one rarity up. I get it. And yes—I can help.” Her face lit up as if I’d flipped on a switch, nerves melting into sunlight.

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  “So.” I tilted my head. “What’s your goal? How do you want to fight?”

  She went still.

  The tapping stopped. Her eyes narrowed, not at me, but at something inside herself, like she was staring at an invisible battlefield. “I… wanted to be the fastest,” she intoned. Then her voice steadied, stronger. “I want to zip around, dodge everyone, challenge the strongest swordsmen.” Her grip tightened on the wheelchair’s armrests until her knuckles whitened, but her grin stretched wide, fire sparking behind it. “I want them never even to touch me.”

  “I see…” I nodded, pulling a one-off holo-tablet from the drawer. It glowed pale blue as I set it down between us. “Two options. First: a marvel-class at level ten. If you choose the right skill, eventually you’ll be the strongest swordsman in Rimelion. Second: only rare at level ten. But eventually, you’ll be the fastest. Not the strongest.”

  Her grin grew sharper, her whole body almost bouncing. She shook her head without hesitation. “I’ll be the strongest, because I’ll be the fastest!”

  I glanced at her wheelchair. And yeah… suddenly I understood exactly why she wanted it. My throat tightened, but I forced it into a smile instead. I wasn’t going to disapprove that.

  “Yeah. When I was… uh… picking this item up, I had that class in mind.” I slid the holo across the desk to her, its glow casting a faint blue light on her nervous face. “There are ten of these stones in existence. Each can unlock the class… or do other things. Lola’s holding onto one in Rimelion. Just show her this approval, and it’s yours.”

  She leaned forward, eyes scanning the holo. And then… cartoon horror. Her pupils dilated, her mouth dropped open, and she almost toppled forward in her chair. “Sword Queen! The estimated price!”

  “Yeah,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck with mock casualness. “I need to approve any purchase over a million.”

  Her lips opened and closed like a fish gasping on dry land before she squeaked, “That’s… that’s, like… ten castles and a spaceship! Or—or a small moon!”

  “You’d need to find a buyer first.” I raised an eyebrow, leaning on the desk. “That’s why it’s only an estimate. Remember when you said—‘I swear I’ll fight in the name of my kingdom, with honor and for glory’?”

  Her blush deepened, and she fidgeted with her wheels.

  “When queens have people like you, they invest in them,” I continued. “Now take the holo, take the class, and go to Rimelion. There’s a sword waiting for you… Mistrael. Yuki can lecture you on its history and why it’s awesome.”

  She reached out hesitantly, pinching the holo-tablet between her fingers like it might set her skin on fire. Then she looked back at me, voice soft. “Queen…”

  I twirled the pencil between my fingers, narrowing my eyes, already lining up another throw.

  “I’m going!” she yelped, jerking her wheelchair backward so fast she almost fishtailed on my floor. It looked less like leaving and more like a panicked retreat.

  —

  After some time on the bank of the river in a forest…

  Fty sat on a rough-barked log, palms pressed against his knees, back straight as if good posture could anchor the weight pressing down on him.

  Damp river and forest air clung to his robes, and the faint smell of moss mixed with burnt ash from an old campfire nearby. He still couldn’t quite believe this… him, leading a team like this.

  It should’ve been someone else, someone louder, someone with a reputation like Commander Llama. But no, the mantle had fallen on his shoulders.

  And now? Now he had to succeed.

  The first to arrive was Katherine. She dropped onto the grass with all the grace of a toppled statue, stretched, then immediately closed her eyes as if napping in the middle of an assignment was perfectly reasonable.

  A notification blinked across his vision.

  Fty glanced around, scanning the treeline, the shadows between the pines, even the ridge overhead. Nothing. Not a footprint or a bent leaf disturbed. “I… do not see.” His brows furrowed, but he didn’t press further. If NightSwallow wanted to play phantom, fine.

  Bright colors broke the muted greens of the forest as Yuki strode in, ribbons and armor practically glowing in the low light. “Hello!” she waved cheerfully, like she was stepping into a picnic rather than a mission.

  “Welcome,” Fty said, dipping his head the slightest fraction.

  But Katherine bolted upright, grinning wide. “Yuki! Ya wanna spar? Heard ya good!”

  Before he could even part his lips, Yuki had her blade out and was charging. Steel clashed, sparks snapping in the dim air like fireflies. From the first strike, it was obvious… Katherine had raw strength, forcing Yuki’s lighter frame back.

  Yet in a blink, Yuki slipped away with a flash of magic, and Katherine’s sword carved empty air. “I will not heal you,” Fty warned, voice carrying more weight than he expected.

  “Ya say that now,” Katherine called back, sword raised high, grin wolfish. “I go!”

  Fty let out a suffering sigh. The pounding rhythm of approaching footsteps saved him… barely. “Hello,” Lunaris murmured as she stepped into view. She folded herself neatly beside him on the log, her beautiful eyes glued to the duel. “I’ll be next,” she whispered, tone calm but threaded with anticipation.

  Fty turned his head toward her, and for one second he wasn’t sure if he wanted to scream or just walk into the woods and vanish. “There will not be—”

  “Lunyyyyyy!” A shriek of joy split the clearing. Then Lisa was there, blazing red hair a streak of fire, barreling into Lunaris from behind. She crushed her in a hug that looked like it should’ve broken bones. “You can spar with big sis!”

  “Nobody is sparring with anyone!” Fty snapped, standing so fast the log scraped against the back of his legs. His voice rang louder than he had intended, but it did the trick. “Now, Katherine, Yuki, stop. NightSwallow, come here. We are starting.”

  And to his shock… they listened.

  Katherine groaned but sheathed her blade, Yuki nodded politely, and even NightSwallow slipped out of the shadows, silent but present. The clearing stilled, the chaos settling into the kind of order Fty had barely dared to hope for.

  “Okay.” He rose a little taller, steadying his tone. “You’ve probably heard, but Yuki here—” he motioned toward her, and she gave a cheerful wave, “—found a lead to a sword. A sword the Queen wants. For Lunaris.” His gaze flicked across them, trying to impress gravity into the moment. “So we’re here to find—”

  “Supplies!”

  The word cut him off like a whip-crack. A new voice rang out, too bright, too pleased with itself. Heads turned.

  Scamantha strode into the clearing with the air of someone entering her own coronation, two bulging bags slamming onto the ground at their feet with a thud that rattled the log. “Hear you got monies from the Seneschal to get equipped!” she announced. “Well, lucky you! Got everything here! And if that’s not enough, my inventory’s also bursting!”

  She beamed, as if the sight of half-exploding sacks was reassuring rather than vaguely threatening.

  Fty’s jaw tightened. “…Yes. Please, we only need reliable supplies,” he said carefully, enunciating each word like a man explaining the concept of fire to children playing with torches.

  “Oh, reliable is my middle name!” Scamantha declared with a theatrical bow so deep her satchel nearly slid off her shoulder.

  Fty suddenly wasn’t sure of the expedition's success anymore.